Thursday, September 17, 2009

Wishful Thinking’s

Wishful thinking’s come in so many different shapes and sizes and of course prices. One wish involves my putting together the last pick’em-up truck I will ever need. But alas, often times other wishes get in the way of that.
Then it never seems to fail every time I find a decent pair of fuel tank fenders, I haven’t got the six bits to buy them. It’d sure be more convenient wheeling out of the farm yard and mow hay field after hay field right on up or down the road without looking back inconveniently refueling a single tank between them. How nice it’d be refueling three tanks but once during each cutting: the first cutting, the second cutting, and if need be the third cutting.
Yet while something always seems to come-up between me and my many wishes no mater how trivial. Take for instance I look at my collection of parts sitting all about the machinery yard just waiting the time I may take them apart and rearrange their individually specific chunks for use in the last pick’em-up truck I shall ever need.
There they set (3 donating pickup trucks) all the major components waiting as if for a harvest: a straight frame, a solid southern body, a choice of two engines one a powerful fuel hungry 350 cu in V8 and the other a slower much more economical 267 cu in V8 with less than ten-thousand miles upon either of them, a completely rebuilt running gear also with less than ten thousand miles upon all the rebuilt ground driving components including “U” joints, ball joints, universals, transmissions, and suspensions. Out there scattered about lies my dream truck. Just one more goal to work in on it maybe finished under a three toned paint job. The colors: the main primary in an easily seen year-round commonwealth yellow, skirted about the bottom in a road dust hiding magenta-ed faun coloring, and virginally topped in a sun’s pure reflective white for summer’s cooler running.
Yup, dreams and goals give a body something to look forward to. (sigh)
There’s a miss in our communications. I hustled and moved right along to get away from here early. Yeah, right. Frieda tells me I got to take her someplace for her bladder check????? I thought that appointment was part of her tomorrow’s shindig, and all day stress testing and ultra sounding her limbs for inside varicose veins.
It’s something how every so many days these clinical services are trucked into our rural area.
Somewhere into my shop time I managed to add my two cents worth of repair efforts. I keep flooded the open end of the stuck cable housing while I heavy dutied the sliding weight on my home made (what else) slide hammer. The same basic slid hammer I use (used) for pulling barn sheet metal nails. I worked the slid hammer a spell the took the cable housing loose the machine, laid it on a heavy piece of cast steel and beat on it with my heavy rubber hammer.
When Frieda was ready for me she called for her favorite ride. I’m assuming that was me. Anyway somewhere along side the bringing my love home and eating lunch somebody else moved that cable in side that housing. I’d like to think my slid hammering and case beating had something to do with the parts freedoms? I tinkered with this and that and got in on assisting hanging a new gat to the southern most bull pen.
My afternoon ending early, my evening starting even earlier, it was beer time. I certainly have enough to do around here…. Darn that brew tasted good, good enough I wanted to reach for another; but naugh, it’d wait. I had picking up after cow, the many cows taking turns keeping our yard trimmed.
Taking a tour around about the house and yard perimeter I simply looped the wire onto an empty wire spool. Bro’ has repeatedly told me I can’t do that as coiling up fence wire in such a manner only eventually makes irreversible kinks in the wire, and when such wire is reused pulled tight those kinks will break. Oh not so oh engineer educated Bro’. As this one walks along I take three winding loops one side, switch hands continuing six more loops over the same spool the full length the wire fence beginning to end. Anyway, I merely lasted only long enough to wind the wire this side the driveway. The mosquitoes were so diligently intense trying to deplete me my eight pint blood supply I retreated and sought cover behind this castle’s four walls.
It has gotten late and I didn’t do near as much as I had looked forward to. I got to get it laid down and find some sleep. Our primary care giver has demanded I make command appearance in his clinic tomorrow morning. This could turn out badly, Her Mostess will likely expect me to take her out for supper. Is there no end to all the romantic deeds a man must do for his wife? Have never understood why it couldn’t be with anybodies wife??? BGKC.

I may not be perfect, but at one time parts of me were incredible.

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